while this was going on in one part of the Hall, outside were gathering the mass of hearers. The frequent disappointments in previous years, when after coming many miles, many with sad disappointment had to retire, because they could not be admitted, led them to make sure this time, and although payment for seats was required, and the doors were to be opened half an hour before the time, such was the pressure that it was found necessary to open the doors to relieve the crowded stairs, so that by the time the doors should have been open according to announcement, the Hall was almost full, while a stream of people constantly flowed in, filling the spacious Hall in every part. Promptitude not only characterised stewards, children, and audience, but chairman and speakers were all in good time, so that precisely at half-past six the procession passed on to the platform, welcomed by the children, and cheered by the vast assembly. Of the meeting, only good can be spoken; the chairman's cheerful countenance, commanding figure, and noble sentiments, the solemn tones of the veteran, Messer, as he implored the divine blessing,--the neat and trim condensation of the report, as uttered in clear tones, by the indefatigable and able secretary, Mr. McCree, the eloquence of the speakers, led off by the glowing fire of the stalwart Greenbury, of Scarborough, followed by the playful and happy address of Mr. Bucke, the earnest burning persuasion of Colonel Wakefield, -the argument of Mr. Pape,-the pathos of Mr. Marshall,the flowing eloquence of Messrs. Robson and De Fraine. Such speeches could not fail of producing their proper result, warming the heart, and firing with renewed zeal the hearts of the faithful.

But the Band of Hope Union meetings would be flat without its accustomed charm of song. Mr. Smith, whose services have been so highly successful in previous years, was quite himself on the present occasion. Under his able management the children were efficiently trained, and many were the appreciatory remarks made during the singing of the various pieces. The friends of the Union have indeed abundant reason to be thankful for success of their Anniversary Meeting, and may well take courage for another year. It would be ungracious to conclude these remarks without paying a tribute of respect to our valued Treasurer, W. S. Haynes, Esq., who worthily and ably filled the chair, which Samuel Gurney, Esq., was obliged to vacate before the meeting closed. May every year witness the growing prosperity and increased usefulness of the Band of Hope Union!

LUCY'S LITTLE LIBRARY, or the INFLUENCE of a CHILD.

"Father!" said a fair, blue-eyed little girl, one pleasant Sabbath morning, "Father, we have such a nice Sabbath school! See what a beautiful book I have to day from the library; wouldn't you like to read it?"

"Father" was a fine-looking specimen of an American labouring man. Tall, straight, and broad-shouldered, with a noble head, its high forehead and fine eyes showing their possessor to be a man of good mind and clear penetration.

There was a compression about the lips that bespoke determination, yet his face usually wore an expression of gentle manliness.

Just now his manner betrayed some excitement, and there was an unnatural flush upon his cheek. Taking the book from the child's hand, he examined it a few moments attentively; then his manner changed, he grew grave, almost stern. Humph! a temperance tale," said he at

length.

66

"Wife! how do we know anything about the books these children read? I've no great opinion of the Sunday-schools, anyhow; don't know why I let my children go, only the ladies were so polite. I'll just go myself this afternoon, and see what this school is like. If it don't please me, I'll take the children away."

"Do go, John," said a very pleasant-looking woman, in whose face you might have read the sweet story of a loving wife and tender mother. "Do go! I think you will like it, if you understand; and our children have learned only good there."

"Do go, father," echoed Tom, Lucy's brother; "we are going to have a Temperance Meeting this afternoon."

"Yes, father," added little Lucy, "and you will get to know my teacher; and that book must be good, for she said so, and chose it for me."

"I don't know!" said Lucy's father; "I hate meddling, but I'll read anything for you, pussy," stroking his child's fair curls, and stooping down to kiss her cheek.

Lucy did not know what her father meant by "meddling," nor what that had to do with her book; but she wished in the depth of her childish heart, that father was a Temperance man; and as she looked at his flushed cheeks, and noted the strange fire in his eyes, something very like a sigh came from her little heart.

"He is a good father," said she softly to herself; "but then he often acts strangely of late, and mother does not smile as she used to; sometimes I think she cries, when we don't see her. Tom says he means to go to sea, for then father will not send him to Jones any more. Jones is a bad man. What if he should make a drunkard, like Jim Crane?" The tears stood in Lucy's eyes, and she tried to pray, as her teacher had told her, for that dear father, that God would 'change his heart and make him a Christian. They knew all would be safe then.

Looking up, she saw her father busily reading her book, and he seemed much interested; suddenly he threw it down, and exclaimed, "Come

children, isn't it time to go?" and Lucy thought she saw him dash away

a tear.

Brightly shone the Sabbath sun upon the children's fair young heads, and very brightly in their hearts shone the clear sunlight of joy-for they were going to Sabbath-school, and father was with them.

"Wine is a mocker, strong drink is raging," said the superintendent, addressing the children of the School. "You must never taste one drop of liquor, children! never take the first step to ruin! never handle the first glass! there is the greatest danger in moderate drinking. Only one safeguard is there, children, and that is total abstinence. Wine may be beautiful now to look upon, but at last!—It biteth like a serpent, and stingeth like an adder;' so the Holy Bible tells us, and we all know that is true."

Then followed some touching stories of the sad effects of drink and intemperance; while many little heads were bowed with sorrow, and many eyes were bright with tears. And when their beloved superintendent called on all to enroll themselves members of the Youths' Temperance Society, there was not one dissenting voice. Joy, joy to thee, little Lucy! Father's voice swelled the glad temperance hymn, and father's own hand signed the pledge. A little hand was softly laid upon his arm, and the sweet voice of Lucy's teacher murmured, "God help thee!" while the joyful tears in Lucy's eyes spoke eloquently of a child's earnest love.

Father is safe now! How could she love him enough, or be thankful enough to that dear teacher for the judicious choice of that blessed little book! "How glad mother will be!" thought Lucy. And Tom; yes, Tom, was looking proudly on his father, inwardly making a resolve not to go to sea.

Oh, that was a happy group gathered round the tea table that sweet Sabbath evening! There was the old smile, too, in mother's eyes, a brighter, happier smile than they had known for many months, for a great joy was cradled in her heart.

"Are you glad you

"Father, ain't you glad you went?" asked Tom. read my book?" whispers Lucy. Listen; the toast was drank in the cold water, while father's eyes were bright with tears, and his fine voice tremulous from emotion. "The Sabbath-school Temperance Society-may God for ever bless it."

Children, Lucy was a little girl, but she had a large heart that yearned to do good. Can you not imitate her example?

MELODIES SUNG AT TEMPERANCE MEETINGS.
By Mr W. B. AFFLECK.

KIND WORDS, SWEET THOUGHTS, AND NEVER
DYING SOULS.

Kind words can never die,

Cherished and blessed;

God knows how deep they lie,

Stored in the breast;

Like childhood's simple ryhmes,
Said o'er a thousand times,
Age in all years and climes,
Distant and near.

Sweet thoughts can never die,
Though, like the flowers,
Their brightest hues may fly
In wintry hours;

But when the gentle dew

Gives them their charms anew,

With many an added hue,
They bloom again.

Our souls can never die,

Though in the tomb,

We may all have to lie,

Wrapt in its gloom;

What though the flesh decay,

BE KIND TO THE FOLKS AT HOME.

Be kind to thy father, for when thou wert young,
Who loved you so fondly as he?

He caught the first accents that fell from thy tongue,
And joined in thy innocent glee.

Be kind to thy father, for now he is old,

His locks intermingled with grey,

His footsteps are feeble, once fearless and bold

Thy father is passing away.

Be kind to thy mother, for now on her brow

May traces of sorrow be seen,

Oh, well mayest thou cherish and comfort her now, For loving and kind hath she been.

Remember thy mother, for thee she will pray,

As long has God giveth her breath;

With accents of kindness, then, cheer thou her way,

E'en to the dark valley of death.

Be kind to thy sister, not many may know;

The depth of true sisterly love;

The wealth of the ocean lies fathoms below

The surface that sparkles above.

Be kind to thy brother, wherever you are;
The love of a brother shall be,

An ornament fairer and richer by far
Than pearls from the depths of the sea.

THE VISITATION OF PUBLIC HOUSES.

During the past year the London City Mission has increased its number of public-house missionaries from two to six. One of them in making his annual report, says:-" As many people seem perplexed to think how a missionary can go into such places, and wonder what he does when he gets in, it seems needful to say a little on the nature of the work. On entering the tap-room we see, perhaps, ten, twenty, or thirty men, smoking, drinking, and playing at cards or dominoes. We apologise for intruding into their company and begin at once to distribute our papers, telling them our object, and weaving into our remarks as much Scripture as prudence may suggest. We then go into the parlour. The men here are more respectable in appearance. On that side sit a group playing at cribbage, while a group on this are warmly discussing the pugilistic merits of Mace and King, who are to fight for the championship. On the right stands a bagatelle-board, where others are playing. The boy at the board is only twelve years of age. He keeps the chalks for the players, and will, no doubt, become a skilful player and ruin himself, if God prevent not. We here again make an apology for intrusion, and give them tracts. Some are silent, some are thankful; one man will ask, 'who is your favourite of the two pugilists?" We then speak of the good fight of faith, and urge them to engage in it. out of the parlour, we perceive a door at the back. We open it and find it leads to the skittle-ground. Here are several men playing. We speak to them and give them tracts. At the same time they invite us to play the game; but we tell them of the game in which the reward is an incorruptible crown. Possibly they answer us with some abuse. If so, we warn them and leave. We proceed to the front of the bar, where many people are congregated. We have to speak to each one separately. We get on quietly till we arrive near the door, where some four or six men try to quarrel with us, swearing and threatening to kick us out of the house. The landlord looks as if he would like them to do so. * * In our visits we meet all forms of infidelity—men who advocate Voltaire, Volney, Paine, Hume

*

On coming